


All According to Keikaiku

by gigiree, sinnabee



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: 707 | Luciel Choi's Route, ;D, Angst, Day 7, F/M, MC knows arabic, Second Person, Spoilers, but no worries i think you'll like the ending, but reader is referred to as mc, but really, for the fanfiction consumer that enjoys pain and suffering, god i love this boy so much, have a taste of your own medicine buddy, i think it's day 7?, its mostly angst, so im tempted to tag this fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 20:39:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigiree/pseuds/gigiree, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnabee/pseuds/sinnabee
Summary: He has a plan. It includes you getting a happy ending, but not him being a part of it. It hurts, but that's how it has to be.He should've known you would come up with a plan of your own.(Idea by Sinnabee and 80% of this fic was written by her. Enjoy her beautiful work.)





	All According to Keikaiku

**Author's Note:**

> A little one-shot that kinda started as a joke, but also is full of angst. :DDDD Have fun reading lovelies!!!

He’d stayed up all night working on tracking Sae…the hacker. He had the IP, now it was time to investigate the building, figure out his route inside.

 

He’s been trying to focus on work, has had his headphones on (but no music playing) to discourage you from bothering him. It’s only 8:30, and he’s pretty sure you aren’t naturally an early riser. Every morning you would stumble out of your room, yawning and trying to rub the sleep out your eyes. And then you’d stretch cutely, just like a kitty cat-

 

He grits his teeth and stares harder at his screen. Somehow, even thoughts of you keep leaking so easily past his defenses, like the mostly empty can of PhD pepper that had tipped over on the floor.

 

Despite the inkling that you didn’t normally get up early, he has noticed you begin moving around 7:00. You step out, yawn and stretch, greet him, and wait for a response for a good 2 and a half minutes before giving up and hopping in the shower. You’d usually emerge sometime around 8:47, so he mentally prepares himself for your presence hovering around him, your questions and long stares, and the inevitable silly phone calls that sometimes managed to beam your voice straight past all the walls he’d so carefully constructed and directly into his heart.

 

Nine O’clock rolls around and you are nowhere to be seen. In fact, if he thinks about it, the shower never turned on this morning, either.

 

He beats down his instinctual panic at the deviation in your thus-far precisely kept routine and instead tries to bring his rebellious brain back around to his hacking. You were probably just sleeping in. Wasn’t he just thinking about how you weren’t an early riser? Panic was useless. He needs to focus.

 

Despite these thoughts, dread and anxiety curl cold, gnarled fingers around his heart and _squeeze_. Every minute you delay coming out of your room is just one more fraying thread in the damaged tapestry of his psyche. One by one they snap. They couldn’t be held together with just chips and soda forever. ...Not that it was ever enough in the first place.

 

God, are you finally keeping your distance? Is that what this is? That’s good...isn’t it? Such an innocent, good person like you shouldn't have to deal with a cockroach like him…

 

Sometimes he wonders if this is really the right choice. He’s just doing it to keep you safe, but it’s hurting you so much.

 

He doesn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things. You matter. He’s doing this to keep you safe. If there is just one thing that he prays he won’t fuck up, it’s this. Even though you're hurting, it’s worth it. He tells himself that constantly - it’s worth it to keep you safe.

 

He can feel his heart pounding angrily in his chest, and each beat sounds like an accusation.

 

_Liar, liar, liar._

 

He shakes his head as if to dispel the whisper from his thoughts. He cares about you, and you know that. And it hurts now, but...

 

But how do you know that? Do you know? You seem like it, you’re always asking him to come and eat, trying to make him smile. You try every day. He doesn't deserve you. You deserve to be safe and happy and to live the rest of your life without having to look over your shoulder. With someone like Yoosung, or Zen. Jumin would take care of you. He’d treat you like a queen. And even Jaehee - he could see it. You would be incredible together.

 

But even the thought of you being with someone else causes a cold ache to swell up in his chest. He should be pushing for you to love one of the others, not...not him. But god, he doesn't want to. He wants to let down his walls and hold you close and tell you he’ll protect you, no matter what! But he can’t, he _can’t_ drag you into this.

 

He has to do this. He has to...right?

 

_Error 606: Productivity has decreased by 63%. Suggested to take corrective action immediately._

 

He groans and practically slams his head onto the desk. He hasn’t gotten anything done for the past 30 minutes. Too busy worrying about you and doubting himself. You still haven’t come out. Maybe he should-

 

All of his thoughts come grinding to a halt when you do finally show yourself, but it’s not at all what he’s expecting.

 

You somehow manage a determined looking slouch out of the short hall that connects to the bedroom. Instead of the usual skirt and sweater, or T-Shirt and jeans, you’re wearing gray sweatpants and an overlarge black jacket. There’s a pair of bright green headphones slung around your neck,  you’re wearing sunglasses indoors, and you have your laptop tucked under your arm. Your hair is hidden underneath a dark gray beanie with some kind of game logo on the side. He takes note of the incredibly crumpled bag of Honey Buddha chips you have in your free hand.

 

After taking all of this in, his mind only draws a blank. He watches you discreetly with his peripheral vision as you settle down in another corner of the apartment. You’ve dragged over a small table to serve as a desk and one of the kitchen chairs, as well as retrieved a few cans of soda from the fridge. Once you seem to be satisfied with your snacks you snap on your headphones and hunker down to do...whatever it is you're so determined to do this morning.

 

In the end, he forces himself to shrug it off. You’re out of your room and he can stop worrying and focus again. Back to work.

 

Hours pass. It’s 1:00. He does a double take when he realizes the time. You haven’t bothered him to eat all day. And if you haven't bothered him to that means you probably haven't eaten either.

 

He doesn't bother getting up, instead he raises his voice a little and tells you that you need to eat. When there’s no answering shuffle or complaint, he takes off his headphones and asks again.

 

“Hey. MC. Are you gonna eat soon? It’s getting late.”

 

No response. Not even a twitch. It’s okay if he doesn’t eat, but you should. He alters his tactic slightly.

 

"Hey...I'm supposed to be the only jerk here...hello!?"

  
  
You shift a little, but just press the higher volume key on your laptop.

  
  
He laughs incredulously, somewhat bitterly. Alright. That’s fair, he supposes. Almost laboriously, he drags himself out of the computer chair and over to where you’ve burrowed yourself in.

  
"Look. I don't have time for this. Just go eat and you can get back to whatever...are you playing a video game?"

  
  
He taps your shoulder. You just shrug it off, and keep focusing on whatever it is you're doing. You switch tabs after a save and go read a few news articles. The dismissal is as clear as a bell.

 

He's getting frustrated now. It gets worse when you open up the bag of chips as noisily as possible. You know he meant you needed to eat a proper meal. Now you’re just rubbing it in his face.

 

The cellophane is grating in the strained silence.

 

"Hey... that's not what I-"

  
  
"I'm eating. Leave me alone."

 

Your voice is cold, and sharp enough to cut.

 

He wants to give up and turn around, really. But he knows you have a tendency to skip meals and if he's bad, you're even worse. He can’t give up.

 

You link your appetite to your feelings and with the way he's been treating you, he’s noticed your sadness translating into slower chewing… and less food overall.

 

He feels like such a crappy person, but he can't let you get close to him. He can’t let anyone in. Hackers don't have friends, or family, or people they care about.

 

And here you are copying him tit for tat.

 

He watches as you open a new tab, and some program on your computer you seemed to have ready. 

 

You pause for a moment, your cheeks puffing out in apprehension. You tend to do that, he’s noticed, to psych yourself up. Your cheeks will puff out like a squirrel before you release a big breath and jump right into whatever it is you're about to do.

 

Almost painfully slowly, he watches as you type something out on the screen.

 

**print "Hello World!"**

**yourname = input('Enter your name')**

**print "Hello, yourname!"**

 

He almost can't believe it.

  
  
"Are...are you trying to...learn programming!?"

 

He watches as you quickly type up something else in the window.

 

**print “Are you trying to learn programming?”**

**goaway = input (‘GO AWAY’)**

 

He manages to choke out a small, bitter sounding laugh.

 

“It doesn’t work like that.” He says.

 

You don’t answer. Just keep on typing.

 

Seven stares at you in a horrified stupor until you finally look away from your screen to meet his eyes.

  
  
"You said you're too dangerous for me to be around. That hackers are like cockroaches…” You pause for a moment, a pout worming its way onto your lips, before continuing. “Well, cockroaches aren't all that bad."

  
  
You flick your eyes away for half a second, but then look back at him with steely resolve.

  
  
"If I'm a hacker too, it won't matter if it's dangerous. We'll both be stuck in that world. I'm only doing what you've been doing, Seven. Now leave me alone, please. I have a lot to learn."  


He's at a loss. He's tried so hard not to taint you. But he's sick and he's dirty and his darkness has spread from his hands and seeped across the room. It's draped across you in the form of that black jacket and the characters you're typing into the stupid programming lesson for babies.

 

He knows you're not entirely serious. It's taken him years to be a hacker, but the fact that you're even trying right now hurts. It's you taking all his shit and turning it back on him in a way that would have been comical had it not been sad.

 

You're hunched over and small in that jacket. Your eyes are puffy and have dark circles. He's sure it's not party planning that's done that to you. It was him. He did that. He caused this.

  
He can't apologize...but he needs to snap you out of it. He needs you to go back to being bright and silly.

  
  
His hand is reaching for you, and he's a few inches away before he rethinks it. He'd be a hypocrite if he told you otherwise. You're safe. He can see you better here in the same room.

  
  
Hes about to retract his hand, but you are something like quicksilver when you reach back and hold onto his sleeve. 

  
You don't look at him. Your headphones are still in your ears. There's some kind of tutorial playing on your screen. Baking?

  
  
It doesn't matter. Your eyes are wide and glassy, reflecting the bright colors of the ingredients splayed out on the screen.

 

"Ana bahebek."

 

It's said with an unsure tone. Parroted with emotions so clear, that he can't breath. His knees nearly give out. You'd said it out loud when you thought you were going to die.

  
  
You're saying it now in Arabic. "I love you.”

 

He's frozen there, trapped and immobile in your hold. Your grip on his sleeve is featherlight, barely there, as though if you would hold any harder, he might slip through your fingers like so many grains of sand.  


To be honest, he feels the same way. He is all at once incorporeal and too solid. He knows, intellectually, that you speak arabic. It was an interesting tidbit he'd discovered when first vetting you as the naive stranger that was led blindly into the RFA. The cute girl who wandered happily into his life and tore his focus to shreds with warm smiles and ridiculous jokes.

  
  
Had it really only been a week?

  
  
He knew it intellectually. In this moment he also recalls the conversation where he mentioned his triple layered security, after which you had sent him a private message asking about it. You know he speaks arabic. Which means this was all too intentional, all too potent, because...

  
  
You know that he would understand.

 

Understand what that meant to you. Understand that it should mean something to him.

  
  
Here you were, imitating him, mimicking his bad habits like it didn't matter whether or not you led a normal, happy life. Playing at being the dangerous man he always claimed to be.

  
  
At first he had thought it was a jab at him, a childish attempt to mirror his feigned disinterest. The ignoring, the playing games, not eating, especially the bit with the chips....he had come over here expecting you to be mad, not...not this. This was supposed to be one in a long line of arguments that would eventually pull the both of you apart, until you were safe and he was dead. All according to keikaiku. (TN: Keikaiku means plan.)

  
Instead, you’re clinging to his sleeve with all the gentleness of a child holding something precious... and the desperation of a drowning woman clinging to the wreckage of her ship.

 

Telling him that you loved him. That you’re willing to give up everything for him, even after the way he treated you.

 

You aren’t looking at him because you don’t have to for him to know.

 

"Oh, god, MC..."

 

He could tug away, easily fray the small connection he keeps with you. He's going to disappear anyway. His attachments had always been tenuous at best.

  
  
He wants to pull away...but he's selfish. And you've done such a great job of being like him. He could do it. He can drag you with him to find Saeran. Down dirt roads and nights so dark you can't even see the stars. 

  
That's where he's going. But he can't imagine you. You with all your bonds, ripping them from the soil and running after him. You'd wilt. You'd die.

 

And then you let him go. You make the choice to let your fingers slip from his sleeve. You look hurt. Distant.

 

If anything up until this point hadn’t made an impact, then this one moment did. Your eyes are shuttered against the pain, your back is tall and resolved in his direction.  

 

You're not even trying to be his caricature anymore. You’ve stopped learning coding, the half done string of input flashing on the screen looks just as broken as your communication.

 

You’re actually checking up on a few emails for the party. Doing some homework for a class.  
You have a life outside of him, one brimming with the mundane. He fears that diving into your time, taking up space with you, would make your cup overflow until you were crying.

 

But you're already crying, aren't you? There's a string of small sniffles. The roughness with which you wipe away the tears with the sleeve of your jacket. Still, you don't leave the room.

  
He's such an idiot. You have agency. Everything you do, you do by choice. He's not going to cage you into leaving or staying...because he would have liked if someone had given him the choice before.

  
  
He's still behind you...so he leans forward until his chest just barely grazes your shoulder.

  
  
You stiffen, but maintain your eyes on your screen. He whispers something into the gap between your headphones and your ear.

  
  
"Do what you want."

  
  
And he slips away, hoping desperately that what you really want is what you've been claiming all along.

 

To stay by his side.

 

**Author's Note:**

> DIDJA LIKE IT??? :DDD Gigi and I had fun writing this! (Also some tears when we first thought it up I think.) Thanks for reading guys! We'd love to hear your thoughts, so if you want drop one in the comment box, and otherwise have a wonderful day!


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